


Impressing the boss

by softie_XL



Category: Original Work
Genre: Belly Kink, Feeding, Forced-Feeding, Humiliation, M/M, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Consensual Touching, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rapid belly inflation, Stomach Ache, Sugar Daddy, Weight Gain, belly inflation, stomach gurgles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:28:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28474698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softie_XL/pseuds/softie_XL
Summary: Micheal sets up a meeting with his boss to earn himself a promotion. His boss has something else in mind that'll guarantee him with more money in his future but not in the way he would expect it.
Relationships: Older Male Character/Younger Male Character, Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 1
Kudos: 83





	Impressing the boss

**Author's Note:**

> This is a kink fic about weight gain. It does not depict healthy lifestyles and relationships. It is purely fantasy. Don't pursue to do any of this stuff in real life.
> 
> If you do not like this kind of stuff, move along and don't read it.

Micheal adjusted his tie to relieve the lack of oxygen he was getting. Or perhaps, it was just his nerves getting the better of him. He was standing outside his boss' home after all. As if threatening him with its stature, the way the sun had precisely hit the backside of the large esteemed house had cast a shadow to its front, giving it an impending doom impression to Micheal. To add to his terrified disposition, the outside temperature was beating down on him and made him sweat more so than usual. Thankfully, he had prepared and put on extra deodorant to keep himself decent smelling for a while longer.

He was so eager and so stupid; he was the one who called for all this to happen. He wanted a promotion at work. He should have caught onto how bad of an idea this all was by the way his boss, Mr. Wheeler, raised his typically furrowed brow at him when he told him this. It was a too-soon move he pulled, he had only been working for his company for a short while — he was still considered a rookie among his coworkers. But he was too puffed up with confidence at the time with the amount of work he put in. He was always hardworking and determined and a kiss-up, he was a triple threat that most would come after and very few admired. He never bothered with those who judged him, he only focused on those who'd get him ahead a.k.a his current boss. He only lets others, like him, have a say in what goes on in his life, as long as it was good. Right now, he was praying that whatever his boss had to say after he opened his front door was nothing else but positive.

After a couple of minutes of standing in dead petrified silence, the door opened and there was Mr. Wheeler in front of him. "Mr. Taylor, you're right on time. Good, I just prepared us a meal." For the first time in the months he's known his boss, he saw him smile. The large mustache atop of his lips curved along with it, giving Micheal a fresh breath of relief with its friendly, almost cartoonish charm. "Come in, boy. There's A.C inside, you look like you just worked yourself up a sweat."

"Thank you, sir." He let out a lighthearted chuckle to ease his tension and distract from his embarrassment of how sweaty he was. Two steps into the household and he was blasted with the breathtaking aroma of an assortment of different foods and an air of cool breeze. He exhaled out all his frustrations then and there. "Wow, that smells fantastic! What's for dinner, sir?" 

"Some chicken, leftover Turkey, macaroni and cheese, basically a dinner fit for a king. Join me in the dining room, Micheal." He motioned the young man to the room and Micheal followed after him. The smell got stronger, it was a blessing to his nostrils with how good it was.

"Sit down here, relax." Mr. Wheeler pulled a chair out for him. The kind gesture didn't register with Micheal until a couple of seconds after he did it. It wasn't anything like Mr. Wheeler was any rude or oafish kind of boss, it was just that Micheal couldn't get over his humble hospitality. From what he has observed in his time of working under Mr. Wheeler, he was a reserved man in every aspect. Even with the people that he seemed close with at work, he kept everything professional. He was uptight, quiet, and kept to his own devices. This was an entirely new side to Micheal.

"Thank you, sir." He offered a smile, that much he could of give at this moment. "So, sir, you already know why this meeting was called. Shall we discuss the matter right now or while we eat?" He asked politely.

Mr. Wheeler held up his index finger. "In just a moment, I'm going to get everything." He exited the dining room to go to the kitchen, leaving Micheal's question unanswered. And Micheal waited.

Then, shortly after, the delicious aroma picked up and hooked Micheal's nose's interest again. Mr. Wheeler came in with a great plate of roasted chicken that looked quite proper for a Christmas dinner. Micheal's stomach loudly rumbled on cue as soon as he laid eyes on the poultry. "Hungry, are we?" Mr. Wheeler's precious smile grew wider.

"Oh, sorry sir. I-" Another chuckle slipped out of Micheal as did almost a full apology until Mr. Wheeler stopped him.

"Why are you apologizing, son? You aren't in control of what sounds your stomach makes. No need to be ashamed. Dig in while I get the rest of the food." As quickly as he came in, he had left. He sat the plate down right in front of Micheal for his choosing. Micheal eyed for the chicken, figuring out how he should cut it but ultimately stopped himself out of apprehension. A weird thing with him that he had always done as a kid was refuse to accept food from others, even when it was offered to him. He never understood where it stemmed from but he was never able to shake off the guilt he felt from taking from others. This was strange for him as he knew that there was no rule or any wrong with accepting food from others and honestly, he felt no shame from taking stuff others, under no circumstances, but the food was the expectation. He knew he'd need to change this immediately with the spot he was in now. With a knife and fork that he found on the table not too far from his chair spot, he cut off a small piece and nibbled. It tasted good, perfectly cooked and the flavor was so enticing that it felt like it was begging and luring Micheal in for more but he deterred himself from eating too much. As he finished up his small piece, Mr. Wheeler returned with more food that's scent filled the room and aggravated Micheal's creeping hunger. 

"Micheal, did you even touch anything? Why aren't you eating?" Mr. Wheeler stared down at Micheal's plate in disbelief. Micheal cracked a coy smile, "Oh no, I had some. I'm just not very hungry, sir."

An expression that Micheal was most used to seeing on Wheeler's face made an appearance: a statuesque solid serious expression that hid all emotions but made you feel that something was wrong. He spoke in a tone that matched his cast: "I insist that you eat something before we begin to discuss anything, Mr. Taylor. I whipped up a lot of food here and I wouldn't like for it to go unwasted."

His words landed bluntly in Micehal's ears and as if, by the command of a magic wand, Micheal went at the food like it was his last meal and he was stalling his death row sentence. A curve of satisfaction grew on Wheeler's mustache. Michael filled his plate to the point that it looked like a rainbow palette of food. He didn't pay any attention to what he picked up, he picked away at everything that was in the way of his career right now. Too busied by the overflowing menu choices, Micheal failed to notice that Wheeler returned to the kitchen for even more food. Once there was enough food on his plate, he began to eat. A burst of deliciousness exploded inside his mouth. The flavor was so intensely good that it nearly turned him to puddy. So suddenly, the effort to clear out all the food seemed easier.

The food had tasted like nothing else Micheal had ever experienced; it was like ecstasy dancing on his tongue with every single morsel he consumed. His reluctance from before evaporated completely and he was now left with an enormous appetite. His baby bites changed, his mouth now unhinged almost like a snake to get as much food as possible in it. Quicker than he could have processed, the food disappeared from his plate but was also not so subtly refilled. Mr. Wheeler filled every peek of empty space on his palette with a content smile. Micheal had failed to notice him show up as well, he was so indulgent in his meal. He was so oblivious to the world, he didn't pick up on the swelling in his middle. The food promptly got compacted in his stomach and made it bloat out, giving him somewhat of a food baby. Mr. Wheeler was more than aware of what was happening and his smile grew wider. "Starving, weren't we?" His eyes trickled down to the younger's belly that had grown to the size of a full-term pregnant belly. Micheal finally tapped out of his trance. 

"Hmm?" He made a dopey sound through the large piece of bread stuck in his mouth. 

"You seem to have quite the appetite" Wheeler pointed out his gut. A deep red of humiliation covered Micheal's face as he finally saw the state of his body.

"Oh my God! Sir, I apologize...I'm deeply sorry...I don't know what came over me" He wasn't making any excuses, he had no idea what came over him all of a sudden. His appetite just took him, he had completely blanked out and all he could have registered before was just his sense of taste. He stared down in disbelief at how suddenly fat he had gotten. His day already wasn't going the way he had planned but this was a different level of inconvenience.

Mr. Wheeler shook his head. "Nonsense, don't apologize. You were clearly hungry and you were enjoying yourself. Have some more, son." He pushed more food his way with a gentle smile that made Micheal feel opposed.

Micheal eyed his plate that was topped off with even more food from before with discomfort. "Sir, with all due respect, I don't think I could have anymore. I don't think that I could fit any more food into myself, even if I wanted to." He held his stomach that was surprisingly plush and soft in his hands. Despite eating a Thanksgiving's worth of food, Micheal would be lying if he were to say that he was full. Somehow he wasn't and bizarrely, he was hungry for more. But he needed to limit himself.

"Oh, I insist. Have some more." Mr. Wheeler pushed the plate closer to him. Micheal squinted his eyes at his boss.

"Sir, I'm afraid that I can't. I mean- look at me, I'm a porker! I'll gladly take it as le-" His negotiation was cut short by Mr. Wheeler's interjection.

"Micheal, I believe that you are a good man and I see so much potential in you. I want to help you plan out your future in my firm — but, I'd like to finish up your plate first." Micheal's breath hitched. "I'm a very traditional man, I grew up knowing to eat all my food before I could go leave the table. Is that savvy to you, Mr. Taylor?"

Micheal and Wheeler exchanged looks with one another, Micheal's bewilderment met with Wheeler's complex poker face. They sat in silence, reading each other until Micheal's stomach rumbled. Wheeler's eyes flickered between his employee's belly and his eyes, "I say listen to your stomach, son." 

Micheal blinked sheepishly and just nodded. He turned to his plate carefully and his stomach rumbled again, practically calling out to the food. He slowly reached out for a forkful of lasagna. He exchanged eye contact with Wheeler again as if to catch something from the other man. There was a muted glimmer of something in his eyes that he suspected but couldn't fully get. He lifted the fork close to his lips, still watching his boss's reaction. Wheeler didn't break anything on his body. He also had no food in front of himself, he was just focused on Micheal and Micheal alone. Micheal placed the fork into his mouth without a second thought when he wasn't able to notice anything else. Then, he immediately slipped back into his trance. The flavor was overpowering and pushed him back into his chair, making him slump down sluggishly. His belly was lifted up in display all for Mr. Wheeler who's smile widen. 

Seeing that the young man so lost in this food-based world of bliss, he reached to touch him. His large hands delicately grazed his belly that was so proudly stuck up in the air. Micheal quivered under his touch but didn't flinch away as he barely detected him. "You're filling out so nicely" Wheeler commented. 

Micheal mewled with the fork still stuck in his mouth. "So good~"

Wheeler chuckled, "I prepared it nice and good for you. Are you still hungry?"

Micheal mewled again and nodded. Wheeler swiftly took the fork out of the man's mouth and scooped up another forkful of lagena, stuffing right back into the other's gaping mouth. He did this one hand, the other never leaving its place from his belly.

"Tastes good? More?" Wheeler took the fork out his mouth and pointed it down at the plate.

Micheal nodded "More..."

"A simple man of simple words and pleasures I see." The older man continued to feed the younger and massaged his belly as it gradually got more packed.

Whereas Micheal ate assertively as if he were in a race, Wheeler took his time to savor the moment. He treated each serving and every swell in the other's belly as a blessing and slowly counted them like sheep. He kept his hand and his attention always present on his belly. It blew up slowly with each bite and got tighter and tighter as it filled up and lost space inside. His clothes gave away shortly as his belly surpassed 70 inches in length. Wheeler took off his top for Micehal to get comfortable and for himself to get a better view of his work. Little by little, all the food on the table, all the food Wheeler made, vanished into Micheal's fat expanding girth. The free space in Micheal's belly was getting scarce. Wheeler, soon enough, had to work his hands more on keeping the contents in his stomach settled rather than feeding him, both to his disappointment and to his delight.

"Look at you." Wheeler tenderly massaged Micheal's enormity. "Beautiful." His hands worked into the younger's belly and tried to ease the pressure within it. Micheal, still lost in his daze, let out tiny burps and hiccuped in response to Wheeler's touches. "I'm surprised that you've been out for so long, almost thought the food wasn't laced enough."

Wheeler cupped the sides of Micheal's belly and leaned his face in towards it. He admired the sheer size of him for a little while before he placed multiple soft wet kisses against his taut tender skin. Micheal squirmed and mewled at the sensation. Wheeler peered up at this, thinking this as a sign that the drug's effects were wearing off.

"Hold on, my boy. I'm not done with you yet, you still need some more growing to do." He stood up from his chair and collected the rest of the food left and gather it all on Micheal's plate. "There's still some food that you need to clear."

Wheeler picked up the pace; he stuffed forkful after forkful, spoonful after spoonful, poured, shoved, forced down whatever was left down Micheal's throat unapologetically. Micheal just took it all obliviously and grew. The size of his gut was absurd; within the period of half an hour or so, his stomach had gone from being slim and nicely trimmed to the size of a yoga ball fighting for space on his lap. His stomach grew louder as well. Gurgles in protest rang throughout the room but never alarmed Wheeler. He just wanted him larger and fatter. Wheeler kept his hand trained on Micheal's stomach as it expanded and rubbed the flesh. Wheeler licked his lips at the sight of him. This man, who he had always had under his thumb, looking so pathetic and beyond well-fed. He was so helpless under his control, he would bet that he wouldn't be able to walk with how much he had filled him up. Pathetically plump and worthless. 

Wheeler stopped again to admire him. He kneeled to the level with his heaving heavy girth. "Gorgeous." He kissed his belly and pressed his body into it as well. His finger filthily grazed the curve of it, like how one touch the curves of a prized trophy. He was so heavy, he knew that it would be very difficult to ever try and lift him but that just made Wheeler more pleased with himself. Wheeler was now stuck in his own world of ecstasy as he pressed himself against the monstrous orb of flesh that was someone's stomach. But unfortunately, this was short-lived as Micheal began to stir awake and regain his senses.

**Author's Note:**

> A chapter 2 is in the works so don't fret my dears, there's more to this story ^^


End file.
